


Lost Birds Fly Into the Sky

by RenegadeAuthor



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Villainous Characters, Assembling a family from multiple universes, Batfamily (DCU), Bette Kane is Hawkfire, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Gen, Helena Bertinelli is Huntress, Mostly Gen, Multiverse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Relationships are minor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27841159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenegadeAuthor/pseuds/RenegadeAuthor
Summary: After his world ended, a young Batman found another to live on. Slowly, he'll assemble a family of his own from people all across the Multiverse, and make this new world his home.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Julia Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Barbara Gordon & Bruce Wayne, Bette Kane/Tony Gordon, Cassandra Cain & Damian Wayne, Helena Bertinelli & Basil Karlo, Jacob Kane & Bette Kane, Kate Kane & Jean-Paul Valley, Pamela Isley & Selina Kyle & Harleen Quinzel, Selina Kyle & Holly Robinson, Stephanie Brown & Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown & Jason Todd & Sasha, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Tam Fox
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	1. This World You May Save

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is the actually the first thing I published in years, so please be gentle. Also, note that this work is not the most professional writing piece - as in, I didn't put that much effort into it. I write for fun. But it's still good quality enough - I checked for faults and all that, I mean, I post for others to appreciate it so it is actually presentable.  
> Onward.

Bruce had only been Batman for two years when his world ended. It was called the Clench; it devastated the world with its ninety percent death rate. Billions of people died in only a few months. He never found out from where it had come from.

He nearly died of it himself, and Alfred and Selina did die. Even then, he never would have left his world behind, even if he had known about the Multiverse – but not long after, there was an Atomic War that rendered most of the Earth totally incapable of providing life.  
He stayed in his cave for months before he met himself.

An alternate elder version of himself, who, upon discovering the fate of this world, offered to take him elsewhere.

He accepted the offer and spent two months parkouring the Multiverse and meeting alternate versions of himself. It took some time for him to chose, but in the end, he didn’t want to be an extra Bruce Wayne, so he pursued a Universe where he either didn’t exist or where he’d died.

Which is how he ended up on an Earth were he had died in Crime Alley with his parents, a long time ago, and where the only heroes in Gotham were somehow Misfit, Hawkfire, Huntress and Clayface, the last two of which were much more anti-heroes than superheroes. Clayface had metamorphic powers (which apparently, he developed in most worlds, but that hadn’t happened in his home world by the time of its destruction, so it was a little strange still).

This Earth that was also fifteen years into his future chronologically. Apparently, this Earth, while not having a Batman, had a Joker Family (Joker, Harley and Junior mostly), multiple crime lords like Red Hood, the Penguin and the Lioness, but also fewer crazies.

There was Hugo Strange, who had never been caught; Poison Ivy, who wasn’t really that violent anymore; Scarecrow; Killer Croc, the Joker Family, a woman called the Black Beast, and few others.

Harvey Dent was somehow still sane. Doctor Freeze was still in his suit, but he was a respected researcher at the Gotham General Hospital, protecting it whenever someone attacked it.

Joe Chill had never been caught, had never payed for killing the Waynes – for killing a kid.

Crime in Gotham was rampant, and the Commissioner had done his best, but corruption was still crippling his workforce even after all these years. It wasn’t as bad as before, certainly, but it was still too much.

This world was in need of a Batman.

* * *

He found himself in need of a new identity, but reluctant to change his name. It would be better if he did; he certainly didn’t look the age this Bruce would have reached. He’d searched a bit for a name, before settling on Thaddeus, in honor of Alfred.

He was very reluctant to make it seems like his father had cheated on his mother, his hands clenched in fists at the very idea… but, well, he definitely needed his family’s wealth if he wanted to be Batman.

Which was how, three weeks into his arrival, most of which had been spent in the mostly abandoned Wayne Manor, Thaddeus Kyle went to see Wayne Enterprises’ CEO and majority shareholder, Jacob Kane.

He didn’t exactly expect a warm welcome, but what he got was colder than expected.

“You said you are Thomas’ son,” said Jacob Kane, who retired from military to maintain the corporation once his sister died and he’d fired Lucius Fox.

“Exact. I’m Thaddeus Kyle, Mr. Kane, I’m enchanted to meet you.”

“So you are. Have you some proof of what you announce?”

“Here’s the genetic testing’s results.”

“I see. What age are you, Mr. Kyle?”

“I’m thirty-two years old, thirty-three this November.”

Jacob grimaced. Well, he’d just learned his brother-in-law had cheated on his sister, so he was right to.

“You look rather young for your age, Mr. Kyle.”

Bruce wasn’t actually thirty; he’d barely reached twenty-seven while he was world-hopping. But any younger, and there wouldn’t have been a Wayne to be his parent.

“What do you actually want from me?”

Bruce took his time to respond.

“I’d like permission for renovating Wayne Manor and living there. I know you don’t have any use for it. And, if possible at all, I’d like a job at the company. Whatever you think is appropriate – I’ve got diplomas in Business and Engineering if you want to see credentials.”

All the diplomas and papers – driver’s license, birth certificate, etc. – were fake, of course. Only the genetic test was real. 

Thaddeus Kyle, only son of florist Katherine Kyle, living with her until she died in a car accident when he was seventeen; he emancipated himself and started a series of small businesses, amassing some money (actually taken from other worlds) but seemingly always chose to close shop and try something else. Had a degree in business and a master’s in engineering and spent some time training as a doctor before abandoning that too. Traveled the world for the last four years (which would hopefully explain why some records just didn’t exist).

He’d had to do all this without the Batcomputer, and he certainly needed to ameliorate it once he was able to, but it should hold up for a while.

“I’d like to have my own doctor do the testing again. For the rest… we’ll see.”

The phone rang. Jacob Kane looked at it.

“Now, if you excuse me, I’m actually quite busy these days. I’ll sent you the information next week.”

He got out of the chair and was escorted out by Jacob’s secretary – Carla something. As Bruce walked out, he heard Jacob Kane take up the phone and start talking.

“Yes, Bette, I’m quite busy yet – “

* * *

Two weeks latter, Bruce – or Thaddeus, now – was sitting on an uncomfortable chair, waiting for his turn in Doctor Leslie Thompkins’ office. 

In his universe, Leslie had started a free clinic in Crime Alley – here, she had not. She held her own private clinic in the good part of town, which served mostly the rich and, maybe, the mob. This was a departure from the lady he knew, and thus, he didn’t know what to expect from her.

It was quite possible she would do whatever Jacob Kane wanted. This would be unfortunate for his plans, but not insurmountable.

His name was called – Kyle. He didn’t quite known why he’d chosen the name of the criminal for himself rather than say, his fiancée’s, except Selina Kyle had actually been a hero in some worlds (his wife in at least one) and didn’t seem to exist here. Julie Madison had never married and actually changed her name to Portia Storme – she was a quite popular actress apparently.

He stood up and met the nurse, who brought him to Leslie.

She seemed… aged. He knew she was actually quite older that his own, but even that didn’t seem enough. She had deep rides.

“Hello. My name is Doctor Leslie Thompkins. I’ll check up on you today,” she said without looking up from her files.

“Pleasure to meet you, Doctor Thompkins. I’m Thaddeus Kyle.”

Her head shot upward. She faced him for a moment, silentious.

“You… actually, you look like your father. And you have Martha’s nose. Somehow.”

“I’m sure it’s a coincidence,” he said, too quickly. Leslie was there, and she was old and tired. He’d know Leslie for years, and he’d saw her die too.

“Really?”

He could not trust her. He could not.

“I’m from an alternate universe. My real name is Bruce Wayne.”

She didn’t seem as shocked as he thought she’d be. She seemed to believe him, even.

“Oh. I see. That… changes things. How long will you be there?”

“Permanently, I hope. Have you dealt with this situation before?”

“Once or twice. I… I have special patients sometimes.”

“From the mob.” He glared.

“I can’t say I’m where I wanted to be twenty years ago… but I’m still saving lives.”

Lives. Criminal lives were still lives. He understood that.

“So, did Jacob Kane pay you to get a certain result?”

“No, actually Jacob is quite incorruptible. The only reason he sent you here is because I’m an old family friend. I would have all the reasons of finding out if you were really an impostor.”

“Hm.” What to do, now? Could he trust Leslie any more?

“We’ll do the testing and the general check up today. We’ll talk more this weekend. I’m swamped with work. Bruce… it’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Leslie.”

The rest of the visit went well, until he had to retire his shirts.

There was quite a lot of scars on his body, from training with the League and his vigilante activities latter.

“Oh my… Bruce, what happened to you?”

“Quite a few accidents over the years…”

She thankfully didn’t ask any details at this time. Her look promised more questions latter, though.

“I’ll sent the results to Mr. Kane. It should be two to three weeks before you get anything.”

“Thank you, Leslie.”

“Be safe.”

Well, that went rather well, all things considered.

* * *


	2. The Lonely Road Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce acclimates to his new world slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back with the second chapter! My school session is also nearly finished, so I have least things to do.  
> I'm probably going to post once a week.

Maybe he should have waited until he had the Cave in order. Or until he had a better suit that wasn’t made of spandex with little protection (it was a little like he was back in the first week of being Batman). Or until he’d made sure Leslie would be ready to heal him if he was hurt (it’s not like Alfred was there anymore).

Batman was back in order, ready to hammer on justice on Gotham’s criminal underworld.

Some of his equipment he’d taken from other worlds; he’d keep a Batarang (or so his alternate had called the object) from his home universe, but it was still in Wayne Manor, as a souvenir. Some of it was hastily arranged from tech shops.

Bruce would be the first to admit he wasn’t as much of a genius at creating tech compared to some others he’d meet on his way to this Gotham, but he was quite good with standard tech that would be available to the public. He’d succeeded in assembling a tear bomb and some shock-giving imitation of a Batarang, along with one or two other gadgets. It would be good enough for the first night.

He didn’t have access to Lucius Fox’s genius anymore, and any tech he would find at Wayne Enterprises would be heavily monitored, so it would have to do.  
Firing his grapple, he shots out into the polluted air of his City, moving like a shadow.

He stopped two robbers picking on an old woman, then a would-be rapist that he left tied up and with probably a lot more bruises that was strictly necessary. His blood was singing as he swung toward a commotion a block away.

The city was so different, but he’d had lot of practice adapting these last few months whenever an alternate version let him patrol.

Screams made him swing faster. There, on the street, three-four-five bandits aggressing a woman and her chauffeur. 

He swung his fist on the first criminal. By the time the man was down, the lady had swung a crossbow out, and the driver had transformed into a sand monster – Clayface – and was going after the last two.

There were no kill shots, happily. He wasn’t intent on fighting against Clayface and Huntress teaming-up on his first day out.

“Who’re you?” asked the shapeshifting monster.

“I’m Batman,” he said in as grave a tone as possible.

“Batman. Here to cause trouble, vampire-fanboy?” asked Huntress, menacing.

“I’m here to help.” They’d see it, soon enough.

“Good. Maybe. Want to team up down River Road? Clayface’s busy on weekdays.” What she didn’t say was _I’m testing you_. Probably Clayface wasn’t that busy.

“Hm.”

“I’m taking that as a yes.”

Then she took off, and he followed her.

He found her two streets latter, and they teamed-up against two thugs. 

Then he saw her go for the kill shot, and he interfered. She tried to punch him on reflex.

“What the Hell, Bat?”

“No killing.”

“Seriously – nothing ever gets done without killing. Didn’t take you for a peace-loving hippie like Hawkfire and little Misfit.”

“The police won’t help you if you kill.”

“As if they’d ever accept vigilantes…”

He glared at her. (And tried not tor remember when Gordon accepted him and his work a few months before the end. Could it have lasted?)

“Okay. No killing tonight.”

They continued for another hour at least, until she stopped.

“Okay. Welcome to Gotham, you should know…”

He vaguely heard her calling out in surprise at his disappearance as he grappled away, smirking. That was the fun part.

* * *

There was a lot to say about lost and grieving. Some said the hurt healed over time; Bruce rather thought not. Losing his parents had broken something irreplaceable in him, and then losing Alfred… and everyone else… it hadn’t helped.

He would probably never cope the right way with any of this, but this was alright. He had a mission. There wasn’t anyone to care that he was dressing up as a Bat and punching people at night. Some parts of him told him that was too much, too irresponsible, that it would end in his death, but it wasn’t as he’d ever really considered abandoning vigilantism.

He didn’t really know how he felt. It was… something bad. He didn’t want to feel anything, and normally he would have put everything into order, but not today.  
Not today, when he was looking at his grave.

Bruce Wayne, eight years old, loved son, gone too soon.

Beyond him were Martha and Thomas’ graves, and all his ancestors, stuck in their last eternal sleep. They were familiar, but that didn’t help the pain at all.  
And, not far way, another grave that shouldn’t be. Beside Gabrielle Kane, loved mother; and Elizabeth Kane, loved daughter…  
Katherine Kane, lost angel, 10 years old.

He’d wondered about it. While Jacob had testified about having seen Gabi and Beth’s corpses, he’d never talked publicly about Kate’s fate, or so a quick search showed.

Last he’d know of her, she was just entering the military, walking into both her parents’ boots. Two months ago, he’d been on an alternate world where she was Batwoman and Bruce was a retired cop turned detective. That had been strange, but it felt more familiar than this.

Kate and he had always had a lot in common, but it wasn’t as if they’d been close in the last few years.

He felt a presence beside him, walking up to two meters behind before stopping.

Commissioner Gordon felt like a familiar presence at his side.

“Hm.”

“Did I interrupt? I’m sorry.”

“Not, it’s okay. I’m Thaddeus Kyle.”

“James Gordon. That’s an odd name that you have.”

“My mother chose it. Did you… know them?” he asked, pointing to the tombs, attempting to socialize.

There was a silence. It seemed like the Commissioner wasn’t answering today, until – 

“Yes. I was a friend of Thomas.”

More silence.

“What was your connection to them?”

“Thomas was my father. I didn’t get to met him, though.”

“Ah. You met Jacob yet?”

“Yes.”

There would be rain soon, and the sky was darkening slowly.

“Well, as much as I loved the Waynes, I’m not actually there for them today. I’ll let you to it, son.”

“For whom are you there?” Inappropriate. 

“Barbara,” – oh no, not the little girl – “my wife. You must be new, if you haven’t heard.”

“Haven’t heard?”

Okay, Bruce had maybe prioritized the wrong things – Wayne Enterprises over the Foxes, the police force over the individual officers – but he’d been working a lot to find a contractor who wasn’t corrupt to take care of the Manor this week.

“My wife was killed by Black Beast… my sociopathic daughter, Barbara. She also nearly killed my son and I… it’s a sad thing.”

“Where is she now?”

The Commissioner grimaced.

“That’s the question, isn’t it? No one knows. She escaped before they could put her in Arkham.”

They stayed there in silence a few more minutes, before the man left.

He thought about destinies and choices, and the happy little girl that had been his Barbara Gordon, very intelligent, but certainly not a sociopath.

He thought about what he’d heard about the Black Beast – killing machine, seductress, intelligent.

He thought about home, before it was destroyed.

* * *

That night, he searched up names. His alternate selves had rarely operated alone; there was almost always a Robin, a Batgirl, sometimes a Nightwing and a Red Robin. Catwoman had been an ally often enough, but she seemingly didn’t exist there.

Richard John Grayson, that was Nightwing. Dick Grayson had lived in Haley’s Circus until his parents’ death in a protection racket gone wrong with Tony Zucco (Tony Zucco had then been taken care of by Huntress some years ago). He’d remained with the circus for a week, until he’d died in an accidental fire in his tent, aged eight.

Jason Peter Todd was a Robin he’d encountered in only one world, an angry little guy that recited poesy. In this world, Jason Todd was taken to the hospital by a neighbor as a five-year-old, overdosing on cocaine. He’d slipped into a coma and died two weeks latter. The matter had been investigated, and his mother Catherine arrested and put into detox. It was all an accident.

He found nothing online about Cassandra Cain, another Batgirl, but that was normal from what he knew of her.

Timothy Jackson Drake, his neighbor’s son, another Robin, had been taken by social services as a baby and the Drakes charged with severe neglect. The baby had not talked, even seven years latter, eight years old, when he’d seemingly killed himself by burning the orphanage where he lived, causing twelve casualties (no deaths, thankfully).

Another name associated had been Stephanie Brown, the Spoiler, daughter of Arthur Brown, Cluemaster, and Crystal Brown, real name Brenda Haywood. Arthur Brown was presently in prison for the murder of his ten years old daughter, and Crystal had no addresses listed.

He tried a final name – Terry Long, another Batman, but didn’t get any results. The only other ally he’d had had been a Robin named Damian, but he’d never known the boy’s last name before his counterpart adopted him, so he couldn’t exactly look for him.

It was for the best, he thought. Batman works alone.

It really hadn’t been a good choice of his counterparts to bring kids into the fight, as well. What where they thinking?

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, did you like it? What do you think about all this?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Don't hesitate to comment, I would love to have your impressions on this thing!


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